"Heh."

Ariel let out a cold laugh, just as expected. "How does it feel to get toyed with for the third time, First Demon General?"

A chill rose—

from behind Zagu.

The Muen who had dashed out earlier had no idea when he’d doubled back.

The twin blades crossed, cleaving out a cross-shaped flare of brilliance.

Of course, this time it wasn’t an empty frame. The stacked force that had already been built up on the edges burst out in an instant—violent vibration interlacing with pure sharpness—and it effortlessly tore open the high-defense magic-guided armor on Zagu’s body.

And flesh.

Chi—

Blood-red liquid sprayed out like blooming red spider lilies, breathtakingly beautiful.

"Muen—Campbell!!!"

Zagu roared.

Some things, the first time, could be endured. When you calculated against the uncalculated, you were bound to be taken in.

The second time could be endured too. The move changed, the person changed—taking a loss wasn’t that humiliating.

But a third time...

As long as someone’s self-respect was normal, they couldn’t endure it—let alone when he was the demon race’s First Demon General!

The strongest...

beneath the Grand Dukes!

Zagu lifted his foot and stomped hard onto the ground.

In an instant, the floor—made entirely of some kind of metal—was forcibly bent like an ocean swept by a storm, heaving up violent, towering waves!

That wave-like upheaval rolled outward, carrying unimaginable, overwhelming force, and it actually forced both Muen and Ariel back together!

And it wasn’t just that. Everywhere the “giant wave” swept, soil, vegetation, crystal barriers—everything was torn apart completely! Aside from Muen and Ariel, who leapt up in time, nothing survived at all!

Worthy of the First Demon General...

Muen swept a glance around, secretly shaken.

One kick.

Just one kick, and this enormous botanical garden had almost been completely destroyed by Zagu.

"What a waste..."

With regret, Muen flicked his blades, tossing out a flourish.

As expected, those two strikes hadn’t ended this guy outright.

He’d broken through the defense, but the damage seemed too small—nothing that could reach the root.

If anything... it felt like he’d just filled this guy’s rage gauge to max.

"Hoo... hoo... I admit it. You really have pissed me off."

Zagu took two deep breaths, then gradually calmed back down.

That cross-shaped flare had carved a huge gash across his back. Even the magic-guided armor on his body couldn’t withstand Elizabeth’s absolute sharpness—its magic circuits had been severed, nearly scrapped.

Zagu didn’t feel any regret about it. He reached out, grabbed, and actually tore the armor off his body by force. At the same time, he took off the faceplate, revealing his true face—something he’d never shown before.

"This is... ngh—"

Muen and Ariel both sucked in a sharp breath.

It wasn’t because Zagu was especially ugly or handsome. It was because on his bare upper body, across his skin, and even on that utterly ordinary-looking middle-aged uncle face, there were scars—dense as they could be.

Healed scars. Old scars. Vicious, grotesque scars.

Then the muscles on Zagu’s back wriggled. The two wounds from Muen’s slashes began to heal at a visible speed—but that healing ability didn’t seem capable of perfection, so two clear scars were still left behind.

Pale, terrifying, new scars.

Now, the damage Muen had dealt vanished in the blink of an eye, joining the same kind—becoming yet another mark of honor on Zagu’s body.

Only...

New scars and old scars. The difference between them was so clearly visible...

Muen’s gaze shifted slightly, meeting Ariel’s eyes on the other side.

No one knew what the two of them had thought of in that instant.

"Feel honored. I don’t even know how long it’s been since anyone’s seen my ‘full state.’"

Throwing away the armor was like throwing off some kind of restraint.

Zagu stared at the culprit who’d embarrassed him again and again, and let out a savage laugh that sent cold down the spine.

"This time, I won’t hold back and give you any more chances to play tricks!"

"That doesn’t sound great..."

Muen gave a bitter laugh.

But in the next instant, that bitterness turned into an unshakable resolve.

"Still, spare me the scary talk. I’m used to this sort of thing. You can’t scare me."

Muen’s figure flashed again.

Facing Zagu’s terrifying threat, he didn’t retreat at all—he even chose to keep taking the initiative!

To break through himself.

To a stronger power.

One hundred stacks.

Slash—

The move still looked just as monotonous as ever.

But day after day, night after night—sweat poured into relentless training would always water a different fruit.

This strike didn’t just have the might of layered force like before. After compressing that force into a single point, it also carried—

sharpness.

This was no longer an imitation of Ariel’s Heavenly Fire Draw. It was the result of fusing Heavenly Fire Draw completely into his own style!

"One Hundred Stacks—Scorching Wave!"

The new move lunged at Zagu like a wildfire.

And on the other side, over by Ariel...

what ignited was a wildfire in the literal sense.

"Just how far has this bastard stolen my techniques?"

Watching Muen treat her Heavenly Fire Draw as casually as breathing—swap weapons and he could still pull it off, then even extrapolate and innovate on top of it—Ariel couldn’t help baring her teeth in irritation.

But this wasn’t the time to get hung up on some minor issue.

She couldn’t lose to that asshole.

Ariel took a deep breath.

"Beast Heart."

"Boiling Blood."

Her condition had recovered quite a bit, but it still couldn’t support her stacking every buff to the same blinding “light pollution” level as before.

So she could only use these two—the lowest burden, yet in some sense the biggest boost to her current self: raw bodily abilities.

Then—

"Heavenly Fire..."

Ariel raised the red-gold greatsword in her hands.

The bandages on the blade had completely come loose, fully exposing those majestic golden runes.

Flames surged up, then rapidly fused into the blade. In the end, the entire Heavenly Fire greatsword radiated vast heat and brilliance, as if it had been directly poured over with molten lava!

"Draw—Alter!"

Ariel’s breath sank slightly.

Muen Campbell was using a new technique—so of course she couldn’t fall behind.

So this time, what she gathered wasn’t ordinary power.

It was the entire technique.

She forcibly tore apart Heavenly Fire Judgment—this violent move—and fused it directly into the Heavenly Fire Draw she was most practiced with, the one that fit her hand best!

"Judgment Descends!"

Two differently expressed powers fused with exquisite precision. Ariel compressed and condensed that berserk, bulldozing force—then, without caring about anything else, detonated it in a single burst!

Just like her black and white before—light and dark!

So.

On one side was absolute sharpness that could not be blocked.

On the other was a surging crimson torrent that seared bone and burned the heart.

Zagu was pinned between them, like a rock inside a giant wave, on the verge of being shattered at any moment.

So.

Zagu gripped his long spear with both hands.

After the fury, he returned to calm once again.

He wasn’t afraid of these two techniques.

Because the rock in the middle of a river—no matter how monstrous the waves—would still stand unmoved.

Just like him right now.

"Ancient martial art."

In a language forgotten by this era, Zagu murmured the name of that old technique:

"Demon-Phantom Visage!"

A thousand years was enough for many things to be forgotten.

To outsiders, the demons of today were mostly seen as monsters that fought on instinct and ferocity.

But how many people still remembered that the demons of the past—or rather, “those people” who became demons—were also true martial artists who had tempered martial techniques to the extreme?

He hadn’t used a move like this in a long time. But he had to admit—these two little human mice in front of him did have the right to make him display ancient craftsmanship again!

"Die, human."

As his low chant fell, horrifying patterns wriggled out of Zagu’s flesh like small snakes. In an eerie posture, they spread across his entire body.

They were demonic-ghost tattoos.

They were totems of death.

They were also symbols of power!

Zagu clenched the pitch-black, deep spear, then swung it down in a sudden arc—like he was going to split this heaven-high giant wave straight apart!

...

...

"It’s about time, isn’t it."

Grand Duke Shenyi lifted his head and glanced toward a sky he couldn’t see, and suddenly muttered softly.

"What?"

An, seated on the throne, asked warily, her voice tightening. "What are you saying is about time?"

"I’m saying, if you count the time, Zagu has already killed Muen Campbell by now."

"Impossible."

An’s expression went cold, her voice rising sharply.

"Young Master won’t be killed that easily."

Even when An herself had once imprisoned him like that, he’d still escaped. She didn’t believe he could be killed by just any random cat or dog.

Even if that cat or dog was the famous First Demon General.

"Hehe. If it were anyone else, Muen Campbell would indeed have a chance to escape. But that’s Zagu."

Shenyi chuckled lightly, showing immense confidence in Zagu.

Of course he trusted him—because he understood what kind of subordinate Zagu was. That was why he valued Zagu, even to the point of placing him above those arrogant, ridiculous Grand Dukes.

"Do you know, respected King?"

Shenyi touched his chest and spoke with refined courtesy. "In the entire demon race, you still wouldn’t find anyone as steady as Zagu. That steadiness isn’t only aimed at the strong—it’s aimed at all his targets and opponents. No matter how weak they look, how frail they seem, even with absolute advantage he will not relax. So he may run into some trouble, but... he will never fail."

...

...

Everything settled.

Zagu silently lowered his spear, scanning the wreckage around him.

In that clash just now, this place had been completely destroyed—so much so that even some of its original traces could no longer be seen.

Everywhere was debris, twisted metal, magic circuits flickering with firelight. Like a terrifying earthquake had swept through, the fissures torn into the ground were bottomless.

It was over.

"I have to say, as prey driven into a corner, to give me this much trouble—you already have enough capital to be proud."

Zagu looked down at his chest.

Two clear scars, crossing each other, were carved into his flesh.

Even though they were healing again at a visible speed, white bone could still be faintly seen within the wounds.

His back still burned with pain as well. Large patches of surface tissue were almost carbonized. Even real molten magma wouldn’t have made his tough body look this wretched—yet this had come only from that human woman’s flames, like a small sun.

That’s right. He was injured.

And not lightly.

But... that was all.

Because the outcome had already been decided.

He’d taken damage, but the damage Muen Campbell and that human woman had suffered would definitely be several times worse.

He didn’t believe that after taking that kind of injury, there was any possibility of survival. Even some of the most troublesome abyssal beasts, after enduring attacks at that level, would have only one possible outcome—death.

Of course, with his temperament, he absolutely wouldn’t completely relax just because their auras had vanished from his perception.

Before he cut off their heads, he would not loosen the nerves stretched tight within him.

It was precisely because of this cautiousness that, in a demon race where they slaughtered each other in blood-soaked internal conflicts, he had sat firmly in the position of First Demon General for a full hundred years.

"Cleaning the battlefield is also part of the hunt."

Zagu went first to the rubble where Muen Campbell was buried. This human named personally by Lord Shenyi was his primary target, therefore he had to confirm it first.

His gaze locked onto the place where the rubble had piled up. Around the debris, there was a large amount of scattered blood.

It looked like Muen Campbell was already—

Clang!

Suddenly, a pure-white blade stabbed up from below.

Zagu’s expression didn’t change in the slightest. He swung his spear to block.

But what he blocked was only some scattered junk that had been flung at him.

Behind that junk, a figure soaked in blood moved like a shadow, slashing the blade in hand toward Zagu’s vital point from an extremely tricky angle.

Zagu frowned. In his hands the spear shifted techniques as if it had no weight at all, stabbing straight toward the other’s chest.

But that blood-smeared figure...

Muen Campbell...

seemed to have no awareness at all of the killing intent wrapped around the spear, still recklessly chopping his blade down.

Is he trying to... trade injury for injury?

No. With Muen Campbell’s current state, calling it “trade injury for injury” wasn’t accurate.

This was trading his life for injury.

A stupid way of fighting that was pure overdraft—no regard for his own life.

In that case, there was no need to take that risk.

Zagu forcibly pulled his force back and dodged, but Muen Campbell’s movements didn’t pause at all. He left another wound on Zagu’s arm.

This hurried sneak attack was nowhere near the power of that move from earlier, but «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» it was already enough to make Zagu impatient and irritated.

"Enough!"

Zagu forced Muen back and shouted angrily, "How long are you going to keep doing something so meaningless?"

"...Meaningless?"

Muen swayed, struggling to steady himself. Just as Zagu had expected, after that clash—whether he’d died or not—his injuries were already extremely serious.

But he still lifted his head and looked at Zagu in confusion.

"What... do you mean? Aren’t we still fighting?"

"You’ve already lost!"

Zagu snapped. "Why are you still making this meaningless struggle? You humans like to think you aren’t beasts, so naturally you can understand—"

"Struggle? Beasts?"

Muen interrupted him, his tone genuinely puzzled.

As if he couldn’t understand what Zagu was saying at all, he kept murmuring to himself.

"That’s really strange... with internal conflicts so severe... with demonfolk who slaughter each other at the slightest thing... it shouldn’t be like this... unless... ah, right. I get it."

As if he’d remembered something.

Muen suddenly saw the light.

"Zagu, First Demon General..."

"What are you trying to say?"

"Don’t misunderstand. What I’m saying is: you really are steady, and you really are strong. As the demon race’s First Demon General, you live up to your name. You must have gone through countless bloodbaths, participated in countless slaughters, to climb to your position today. The scars on your body are proof. But..."

Muen suddenly bared his teeth, giving Zagu a strange, blood-smeared smile.

"Lord Zagu—ever since you became the demon race’s First Demon General, the strongest beneath the Grand Dukes... how long has it been since you fought someone claw to claw, fangs to fangs?"